M. Frances Foster

Designer, maker and denim enthusiast
based in the middle of the map.

Here I share various visual exercises,
new works, scrapshots of places and things; evidences of life and living
in St. Louis, U.S.A.

__
A complicated, romantic thing involving
paper scraps, stringed instruments
and phases of the moon
 



We work in the dark. 
We do what we can.
We give what we have.
Our doubt is our passion.
Our passion is our task.
The rest is the madness of art.

-

Henry James

 

 

 

« personal work: Tender Renderings (extracted excerpt) | Main | *recent work -- identity: Lonesome Traveler »
Tuesday
Dec012015

one / 1 / first / last

number assemblage from book pages; 2015 dec


1 / first day of the month / last month of the year / I / one // listen: One by One, Connie Converse

We go walking in the dark. We go walking out at night. And it’s not as others go, two-by-two, to and fro, but it’s one by one. One by one in the dark, we go walking out at night. As we wander through the grass we can hear each other pass, but we’re far apart.

Far apart in the dark, we go walking out at night. With the grass so dark and tall we are lost past recall if the moon is down. The moon is down. We are walking in the dark. If I had your hand in mine I could shine, I could shine, like the rising sun, like the sun.

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